


Strike Team: Delta

by caseykaboom



Series: Shenanigans at Avengers Park [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caseykaboom/pseuds/caseykaboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the Avengers have pets and they play in the same park. Crack fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strike Team: Delta

**Author's Note:**

> Pet (animal, owner):  
> Natasha (cat, Clint)  
> Other-Clint (crow, Natasha)  
> Furious Nick (sparrow, stray/wild)  
> Tony (robot/cat, Pepper)  
> Bruce (raccoon, stray/wild)

“Hey, Tasha—Oh my God what are you doing,” other-Clint squeaked, startling a few sparrows playing in the tall grass. Natasha was half way in the air. The birds scattered and flew off, chirping nervously, and Natasha dug her nails in the dirt where one of them used to be.

“Will you please kindly FUCK OFF,” Natasha closed her eyes severely. “I’m hunting and I’d like to do it without a loudmouth scaring away all of my prey, thank you and GOODBYE.”

“But _why_ ,” other-Clint ignored the last part of her sentence, “and also why always _birds_ , I feel like a traitor to my whole _Class_ when I hang out with you. You know what’s better than hunting birds? Like, pickles, or like _fries_ or something GAH,” he jumped away just in time, and Natasha dangled on the branch with her front paws. “You just vertical-jumped two solid meters, Nat, you—you’re practically an honorary bird! See? More reason not to hunt birds!”

“Shut up,” Natasha said, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. She had her eyes on a _prize_. “Other-Clint, are we a team or are we a team?”

“We’re more like a murder weapon and its victim,” other-Clint answered absently, looking around for dropped fries. “Uh, I mean. Totally a team. A _strike_ team. Just, _the best_. I distract them with my dashing good looks and deep philosophical musings, and you maul them senseless. It’s like good cop, bad cop, except it’s their bastard children doing the copping and there’s no justice.”

Natasha gave him a look that really could be anywhere between _this is why I love you_ and _if you don’t shut up now I will gut you_ , and other-Clint gave up with a sigh. “All right, all right. Who’s your next victim, ma’am?”

“ _Our_ victim, other-Clint,” Natasha flashed her fangs in a grin. “This is sweet, sweet revenge for you. Remember that sparrow?”

Other-Clint followed her gaze and looked up. A sparrow just fluttered onto a higher branch—the same one-eyed sparrow that made off with other-Clint’s speech renderer the other day. Other-Clint almost cackled.

“Target locked, engaging,” he whispered gleefully to Natasha, mock-saluted and flew off.

“Copy that,” Natasha maneuvered onto the branch and climbed.

Other-Clint landed beside the sparrow’s good eye, opened his beak, paused, and said: “so do you like fries?”

Natasha felt her nails dig into the tree. What is up with him and _fries_ , she closed her eyes again and resisted the urge to drag her paws. _Such_ deep philosophical musings, yes, other-Clint, she’s going to pluck off his _flight feathers_ when they finished with this sparrow, _God_.

Up above the tree the sparrow answered with: “chirpity chirp, chirpy-chirpy.”

“I know! Isn’t that crazy?” other-Clint raised his wings in indignation. “It’s practically its own food group. Like there’s the other crap that I eat on a daily basis, things that are questionably healthy and resemble what I might acquire for myself if I were wild or took some really good meth, and then there’s fries. WHY? I lose sleep over shit like this, man. Why do I think my knees are ugly as fuck? Why am I embarrassed when I poop? Am I succumbing to the oppressive heteronormative Western beauty ideals and ableist dogma? Will I die before experiencing true and mutual love? What is the deal,” he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, “with _Coldplay_?”

It was with great self-control that Natasha dove for the sparrow, and not other-Clint. “What’s your problem with _Coldplay_ , now?” she gritted her teeth. The sparrow struggled under her nails, once again reduced to a continuous stream of “@#$%!&”.

“I just—I don’t get the appeal!” other-Clint fluffed his wings again. “Do you!?”

“No,” Natasha allowed, “but I shiv anyone that questions me, so. Hey, _shut up_ ,” she flipped the sparrow around a few times. “Other-Clint, tell him to shut up. I don’t actually want to _kill_ him, I just want to play with him a little. Maybe dismember a few limbs? I haven’t decided.”

“Uh,” other-Clint said, before turning to the sparrow. “He says don’t do that. He says he’s a spy. He leads a team of spies.”

“Hah,” Natasha snorted in amusement. “ _I’m_ a spy, according to Tony.”

“He says he’s _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets. Also he called you a motherfucker?”

Natasha raised a paw, extended a single nail, and aimed at the sparrow’s good eye. The stream of CHIRP’s almost drowned them.

“He says—can you actually hurry up and get to the point—he says he’ll trade you with a spy-secret. He knows… where Steve lives? Dude we all know where Steve lives. Yeah, and where Tony lives, have you noticed that we’re _friends_ , also Tony is incapable of keeping secrets. He knows where Bruce lives—Nat,” other-Clint snapped his head up, “ _he knows where Bruce lives._ ”

“What does it matter where Bruce lives? He’s our friend,” Natasha said. “Just ask him next time we hang out. Hey, Chirpy, do you know where Thor lives?”

“His name is Furious Nick,” other-Clint sniggered. “And Thor is from _outer space_. The italics are his, not mine.”

“… What,” Natasha said.

+++

“Hey Tony,” Natasha landed softly on Tony’s deck. “Hey Bruce,” she waved. Bruce was climbing down a tree in the middle of the backyard. “Other-Clint wants to know where you live.”

“ _Nat_ , you can’t just _ask_ people that,” other-Clint croaked, dropping Furious Nick in the garden. Nick hobbled up the steps toward the deck, preening and chirping up a storm.

“I don’t mind,” Bruce smiled carefully. “Tony, can I…?”

“Knock yourself out,” Tony said, waving his tail.

“I live… here,” Bruce pointed. “In this tree.”

Natasha and other-Clint stared.

“There’s a hollow at the back,” Bruce swallowed uneasily. “I was… in trouble? For a while. I, ah… I’m sorry for hiding it from you guys. I had to, you know. Stay low. Tony put me up—thanks, Tony—it’s really nice of you. Um—” he froze as Natasha walked over, put a paw on his shoulder, and rubbed her neck against his.

“Why didn’t you _tell us_ you were putting Bruce up, Tony? No offence, Bruce, Tony has great digs, I know. But _Tony_. I feel betrayed! You shouldn’t be able to keep secrets! I now owe this douchebag a quarter!” Other-Clint grabbed Furious Nick, who just made it to the deck, and threw him in the garden again. “Where is the _justice_!?”

“Hey, easy mistake, pretty-face. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You owe me 50 bucks.”

“What!? Tony, that’s like 200 quarters! How am I supposed to—what are you even gonna _do_ with 50 bucks? You’re a robot cat! Tony—”

“And you owe _me_ 50 bucks, pretty-face,” Natasha walked casually past him, brushing his face with her tail. “For succumbing to the oppressive heteronormative Western beauty ideals.”

“I… wait, what,” other-Clint said, helplessly.

“I don’t even understand that sentence,” Bruce chuckled, “but hey, at least you’re clear with me.”

“Bruuuuuuce,” other-Clint cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so other-Clint uses the metric system he is progressive like that
> 
> His rant comes from various animals from [ATIAC](http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0385347642/), by Justin Valmassoi (his tumblr is [here](http://animalstalkinginallcaps.tumblr.com/))


End file.
